


Perfection is a lucky guess

by Aegwynnn (Ogawdy)



Series: LT week 2018 [1]
Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: Day One: Date(s), Liontrust Week 2018, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ogawdy/pseuds/Aegwynnn
Summary: Khadgar and Lothar went on many dates before either of them even admitted that they were, in fact, dates.Alternative title: Five times Khadgar and Lothar did not mean to go on dates but did anyway and one time they meant to.





	Perfection is a lucky guess

**Author's Note:**

> Liontrust week 2018  
> Day one: **date(s)**

The first time they went on a date, neither of them was aware of its nature before it was already over. It started easily enough, as an effort to get the bookworm to leave the library for more than the strictly necessary dinner hour. Lothar had quite literally dragged him out of the Keep and into Stormwind’s street to sit him down in an inn and feed him. He had also, amazingly, got Khadgar to drink some ale, although he had pulled a disgusted face at it and barely touched it throughout the night.

Lothar had drunk, though. Mainly to get through the surreal feeling of having Khadgar sitting in front of him, laughing and—for once—not talking about spells, or books, or portals. He had had enough of only ever meeting the mage when he had uncovered new information that could be used in battle, enough of having to bear such a young soul wasting his time held up in a library, caught up in what was the most destructive conflict in decades, enough of hearing about the Light forsaken war.

And the evening had gone well. _Really_ well.

It was only when Lothar went home to his quarters to find Taria waiting for him, and her asking innocently ‘How did it go?’ that Lothar realize what it looked like.

“It—It isn’t like that!” he stammered.

His sister only shot him a knowing look before changing the subject, and Lothar had never felt so confused.

The second time was premeditated—but not by them. It was, initially, supposed to be a night out with the men. Everyone had agreed that it was much needed, and a patrol had just come back from where they stalked out on the edge of the Elwynn forest. They had lost no one, and for their Commander, that was reason enough to party. As it turned out, however, the night out with the men turned out to be the night out with Khadgar, and no one else. Everyone had found a last minute reason not to go, and Lothar and Khadgar, remembering how well their dinner had been a few weeks ago, had decided to go anyway.

As Lothar would learn many months later, they had all more or less been threatened not to go. Some of them, of course, had caved in easily, after learning that their efforts would reward their Commander with one of the best night of his life. The result was, in any case, that Lothar and Khadgar went out to eat and then had more than a bit to drink, Khadgar revealing his secret liking for volatile rum, something he could apparently easily find in Dalaran.

Lothar had decided he quite liked tipsy Khadgar.

Afterwards, they found themselves on the docks, walking leisurely, Khadgar humming some sailor’s song he claimed he had learnt during his travel from Alterac to Stormwind. Lothar did not see fit to question it, listening to Khadgar’s low hums and staring out towards the sea, desperately stopping himself from gazing at the mage instead.

The third time… Lothar was entirely to blame.

He had been away for weeks, patrolling against the border and fearing for his soldiers’ life at each scuffle with the stray Orc. Every time it seemed they had entered deeper and deeper into Human territory, and every time Lothar’s thought jumped to Stormwind where his sister, nephew and niece and mage were, safe for now, but for how long still?

He had come back, wounded, scarred, loss at the forefront of his mind until it was a general state he was in. And so he had drunk. Khadgar had found him in the library, out of all places, because when Lothar was drunk he apparently sought out Khadgar and that had everything to do with the fact the last times Lothar had gotten drunk he had been with the mage already.

Khadgar hadn’t said anything, but in the morning, Lothar was in his own bed, he was undressed and cleaner than he remembered being the night before. He went to find Khadgar and he told him.

“Go out with me.”

The mage spluttered.

“Come on”, Lothar insisted. “Let’s go somewhere, have a lunch, get out from under your books for a few hours.”

“It’s eleven,” Khadgar said doubtfully.

“Ice cream, then.”

The idea was so preposterous that it didn’t even occur to Khadgar to protest.

The day went by at a leisure pace, neither of them wanting to come back to the Keep when the sun was shining and they were in such good company. They ended up going for ice cream—and then lunch and then pastries and then dinner and finally a drink as they stared at the canals and reminisced.

“Do you know what his last words were…?”

Lothar turned to face Khadar, observing his features by the light of the streetlamps and the huge moon above them.

“No.”

Khadgar took a shaky breath.

“He said all he had always wanted was to save us all.”

Lothar nodded.

“Did you believe him?”

Khadgar turned towards him and pinned him there with his dark brown eyes.

“I still do.”

They went back shortly after, their moods considerably dampened by them talking about Medivh, and subsequently thinking about everything else that had happened and resulted in the death of the last Guardian of Azeroth. As they walked back in silence, Khadgar slipped his hand into Lothar’s and squeezed. He only let it go when they parted ways to go into their rooms.

The fourth time, Lothar had planned for it to be a proper date and the one when he would finally make his feelings for the mage clear. It did not go as he planned, as for once people invited themselves and what was supposed to be a quiet picnic in the Keep’s gardens, huddled between the mountains, turned into a family outing with twice their number of guards to keep the royal children safe from boars or squirrels.

Lothar cursed inwardly, but had to admit there was something incredibly endearing in seeing Khadgar so close to both Adariall and Varian. Lothar knew, faintly, that himself would not be there for long and would not get to see these two incredible children become incredible adults. Khadgar, though, young and powerful, would see Varian ascend to the throne and Adariall become the noble princess she already proved herself to be in the way she acted at any time of day.

The fifth time could not be called a date because they were desperate, and sad, and scared, and right to be. Instead of getting drunk on his own, as he was used to, this time Lothar sought out Khadgar beforehand, wordlessly showing the bottles of volatile rum. Khadgar nodded grimly.

They sat, their back leaning against Khadgar’s bed, passing the bottle back and forth, not talking. They got talking at one point, but not for long, as hands found each other and travelled up arms and across shoulders and under shirts and soon they were naked and writhing on the bed, taking from the other what they had wanted to take for a long while now. It was not how Lothar had imagined it, not how Khadgar had wished it would go. But it was what they needed.

The next day, Lothar left for Blackrock, ready to face his destiny.

The sixth time they went on a date, neither of them could quite believe it. Peace between Orcs and Humans was still a far-fetched dream, one that, memories of Garona plaguing their minds, they could not help but believe in. But at least Lothar had won, Lothar had survived and came back to Khadgar.

Khadgar smiled, and led him through Stormwind’s elated streets, finding themselves a quiet corner where they sat, clunk their rum bottles together and took a sip, each gazing at the other as if seeing him for the first time.

And as they had been too scared, or too ashamed, or too bitter to do it that night they had made love, they kissed for the first time on their sixth date, and it was perfect.


End file.
